


Four in the Morning

by Onlymostydead



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymostydead/pseuds/Onlymostydead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's four in the morning, and sitting on the kitchen floor of their shared apartment minds begin to wander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four in the Morning

The grimy little apartment kitchen was nothing spectacular, but it contained the world.  
Their world, at least.  
Roommates Dick Simmons and Dexter Grif sat there now, the scene dead silent save for the rock music softly seeping from Grif's phone, which lay on the floor as it's owner smoked a cigarette.  
The lightbulb flickered now and then, startling Simmons.  
This would be met with a chuckle from Grif, who soon choked on his own smoke.

"Karma?" He wheezed, Simmons's eyes already rolling.

"Science."

With that he inclined his ear to the music once more, eyes now fluttering shut.

It wasn't a tense silence, as one might assume, but rather a comfortable one. Simply enjoying the others presence was enough.  
It was nights like these when minds began to wander, when hearts begin to want for more. They find questions they can't answer alone, but a calm covers it all.  
It was a night like this when the world was made, their world. It began with a confession and a kiss.  
A night of honesty, when the world feels both small and infinitely large, as if they were the only ones living.

But that night was long ago.

Now they sit in comfortable silence, Grif breathing out smoke and Simmons drinking it in, neither caring of the consequence.  
Heavy brown eyes sweep over the scene, his hand finding that of his lover and not holding it, no, never that tender. He rests his hand next to the pale one of his companion, evoking no reaction.  
Grif knew he wasn't sleeping, he was just lost.  
Lost in thought, in his mind. Thoughts wander off, the boundaries between reality and fantasy uncharacteristically weak. Questions arise, and one usually loses them by the time he reaches the answer.  
His eyes fly open, the urgency of the action mismatched with his eyes, languid and calm. 

"Hey," he spoke, his voice slow yet deliberate. "Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

He glanced over, green eyes meeting brown, the dim light blurring that which was real. 

"Every day."

Simmons sighed and slumped against the cabinet once more, his hand reaching closer to Grif's.  
Not disappointed.  
Relieved.  
The music slowly trailed off as the phone died.  
They both shift closer, as if an unspoken agreement had taken place.  
We will not be alone now.  
Grif leaned his head against the others shoulder, his eyes dripping shut.  
Simmons's eyes would follow suit, and slowly both would slip out on consciousnesses.

None but they would remember that night in the kitchen, an insignificant event in an old apartment building, faded out of memory with them.  
Sometimes they would still wonder.  
But never alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love <3


End file.
